4 de Juillet
by madame.alexandra
Summary: An Independence Day set in Benjamin's universe! Jenny's on a mission to reconcile Gibbs and Jackson, and drags the family to Stillwater for the holiday weekend. Meanwhile, Ben is a spitfire, and Gibbs is playing dress up with the baby. ! Fluffy Jibbs.


_a/n: so, i'm slowly ending my hiatus [easing back in] - on July 4th, of course, my favorite holiday ! and this year's special is Benjamin's universe - entirely familial. i think this 'verse is pretty calm and tame and well ... nothing much happens in the stories but i like to write them. hope it's enjoyable!_

* * *

_July, 2005_

* * *

She had been handling the ruckus with the patience and grace that having two children cultivated, but she couldn't help letting out a relieved, quiet breath when the crying finally stopped and faded to comforted whimpers. She flicked her eyes into the rearview mirror and then put them back on the road, her hands steady on the wheel.

"Ben," she heard Gibbs growl warningly.

Benjamin snorted, and then a second later, Gibbs snapped at him again.

"Jenny, say something to him," he said tersely.

She flicked her eyes in the mirror again.

"Benjamin," she said quietly.

He gave her a solemn look, and she shook her head slightly. He frowned and folded his arms, kicking his feet stubbornly in his car seat. She spared a moment to check on the baby before she glanced back.

"_Son_!"

She rolled her eyes.

"What's he doing?" she asked finally – she couldn't see what Ben was doing that was irritating Gibbs so much.

"He's still messin' with that damn – "

An animal cracker came rocketing towards the front of the car and bounced off the windshield. Jenny hardly blinked, but she snapped her eyes onto her son's in the mirror and at the same time, she and Gibbs said –

"Benjamin _Shepard_!"

He huddled down a little – he had figured out how to use his sister's scrunchy headbands as a slingshot. Jenny and Gibbs hadn't noticed he'd snatched Whitney's off her head and started picking up things to play with in the back seat – until a matchbox car had hit Whitney in the eye and started her screaming, and a G.I. Joe had smacked Gibbs right in the ear.

Roughly, the headband and a handful of toys were thrust into the front passenger seat. Jenny glanced at them – Benjamin must have gathered them in his lap. She gave the boy a stern look and switched lanes.

"Is she okay?" Jenny asked.

"It's a little red," grunted Gibbs. She saw him running his thumb lightly over the baby's brow. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, stroking her soft, thin hair back. "She's okay," he decided.

Jenny nodded – Whitney had cried for a ridiculous amount of time after her brother had fired at her, but Jenny was unsure if it was fair to accuse a ten month old of milking an injury for attention. She assumed instead being pegged with a small metal car had really, really hurt, and since that made her considerable pissed off at Benjamin, she'd tried to calm down and not get involved.

Gibbs started forward, barreling through as if he was going to climb back up front – she elbowed him gently back.

"Stay back there and keep them tame."

The look on his face was priceless.

"Jen – _no_," he started to plead, his face falling. "'M not sittin' between them for the next three hours, c'mon."

"Da Da," Whitney squeaked helpfully.

"I want to sit with Mommy," Benjamin said loudly. From the sound of it, he then thrust a foot into his father's backside. Gibbs lurched around and grabbed the foot, giving him a warning look.

"I've about had it with you today," he growled tightly.

Jenny watched carefully. She lifted her chin.

"Ben," she said seriously, "behave, and in one hour we will stop for McDonald's."

His eyes lit up.

"Okay!"

He fell silent, and sat back, the picture of angelic, and Jenny grinned. She elbowed Gibbs back a little, and he collapsed back into the small space between Whitney and Benjamin's car seats. Whitney looked at him with her wide, pretty eyes, and Benjamin wrinkled his nose.

"Daddy's too _big_ for back here," he announced.

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed loudly. "You'd fit back here better, Jen."

He was considerably regretting jumping back here so fast. She had yelled at him for unbuckling and climbing straight into the back – while she was driving – to give Benjamin a swat on the leg and comfort Whitney, but now she seemed to like him where he was – and he didn't want to sit here for a prolonged period of time.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Jenny remarked. "But that's very sweet."

She smirked at the outraged, pouty look on his face.

"Jethro, how will you feel if Benjamin's wife has to _drag_ him to see you someday?" she asked. "Stop sulking. You're setting a terrible example."

Gibbs gave her a small, snarling look, and then made his face neutral, so Benjamin wouldn't catch it – he was being taken – _dragged_, as she put it – up to Stillwater for the Fourth of July holiday, and he still wasn't reconciled to it.

"Could have had a barbecue with the team," he said stiffly. "Abby wanted to see the kids."

"Abby sees the kids all the time," Jenny said fairly. She arched a brow. "Are you really implying you'd rather have spent the time off with DiNozzo than – "

Gibbs gave her a curt, hollow sort of nod, and her eyes met his briefly, but thoughtfully.

She had been pushing the issue of Gibbs and his father since Whitney was born, and since it made the news that somewhere, faraway, the man who'd killed her father had made a misstep, and been arrested for larceny. She'd realized it was important for her kids to have a relationship with their grandfather, and it was horrible that he didn't know them.

She'd finally badgered Gibbs into making a call, which had backfired horribly: it turned out Jackson Gibbs hadn't even known his son was married again and had a grandson, much less another granddaughter. It had taken a few more aggressive, loud phone calls, and one very soft, calm one from Jenny to arrange this. She didn't know what had happened over the years between her husband and her father-in-law, but she did know that fathers were important and relationships could be mended, and she at least wanted Jackson Gibbs to know Whitney and Ben, even if he and Gibbs never ended up patching things.

Once she'd gotten it out of Gibbs that Shannon, too, had forced a relationship between them for Kelly's sake, she'd made up her mind: they were doing Independence Day in Stillwater.

"Jethro," she said, flicking her eyes up again. "It's going to be a good weekend."

Whitney made a cooing nose. Benjamin looked at her and stuck his tongue out.

"Put that back in your mouth," Jenny said immediately, "or Daddy will grab it."

Benjamin looked at Gibbs for confirmation, and Gibbs just shrugged, and stuck his tongue right out at the kid.

Jenny glared at him.

"You wait 'til I tell your father," she threatened.

Judging by the look Gibbs gave her, it wasn't exactly a ripe time for jokes about Jackson – but he put his tongue back in his mouth, and Benjamin did, too.

* * *

She took a quiet, deep breath as she unbuckled Whitney from the car seat, mentally preparing herself for the weekend. Benjamin was already out and bouncing around under Gibbs' stern eye – Jackson had a lot of land sprawling out behind the general store he owned, and Benjamin was thrilled with it.

"Whoa, Dad, a TREE HOUSE!" shouted Ben. "Can we go play, _can we_?"

"Gotta make sure it's still sturdy, bud," Gibbs answered vaguely.

Jenny snuggled Whitney against her and slammed the car door, coming around to join Gibbs. She squinted in the sunlight and swallowed – there was an older man walking towards them with his hands in his pockets, and Gibbs was staring at him in an unreadable, tense way.

"Let Benjamin introduce himself," she reminded Gibbs under her breath, "and you introduce me."

Gibbs ignored her, but when his father was standing right in front of them – with familiar blue eyes and a very unreadable expression, Jenny sensed her husband sort of wake up. He cleared his throat and nodded his head formally.

"Leroy," Jackson Gibbs said in a deep, almost critical voice.

Gibbs turned slightly, and held out his hand.

"Dad," he said tensely – uncomfortably. "Jenny," he said, "my wife."

Jackson held out his hand, and when Jenny placed her free one in it, he pulled her forward and kissed her cheek.

"Mighty pleased," he said warmly, turning towards her eagerly. "Who is this little missy?" he asked, rapt eyes on the baby.

"Whitney Jean," Jenny said obligingly. She smiled. "She's ten months old, and her favorite animals are ducks."

Whitney put her thumb in her mouth and gnawed on it. She was struggling with another bout of teething at the moment, so Jenny didn't remove her thumb.

"Well, ain't got ducks," Jackson said slowly, his eyes on Whitney. "But I got some new baby chickens," he said, "and a coupla old cats runnin' around."

Jenny looked down at the baby.

"Baby chicks!" she exclaimed, raising her eyebrows. "You hear that?"

"Do you have BIG chickens?" Ben piped up suddenly, shoving himself into the midst of them. He looked up at Jackson with wide eyes and demanded an answer. "Do foxes try to eat them like in movies?"

"Not many foxes around here," Jackson said slowly.

Jenny nudged Benjamin's shoulder with her knee. He glared at her, and then took a preening breath.

"My-name-is-Benjamin-I'm-five-and-this-is-my-mom," he said robotically, just like he'd been told – except the last part, he added that.

Jackson stuck his hand out flat, and Benjamin slapped it, grinning toothily at him.

"You're my daddy's dad?" he asked critically, squinting up at him.

Jackson paused before answering, and looked at Gibbs. Gibbs looked away – clearly uncomfortable with how awkward it was to have to introduce them.

"How come I never met you?" Benjamin went on.

Jenny started to say something neutral, but before she could, Gibbs laid a hand on Benjamin's head, ruffled his hair, and cleared his throat.

"My fault, buddy," he said – startling Jenny with the frank admission and, by the looks of it, taking Jackson off guard, too.

Benjamin accepted the comment, and folded his arms, tapping his chin thoughtfully and studying Jackson.

"What am I gonna call you?" he asked seriously. "You got a name?"

This time, Jackson did look at Gibbs seriously.

"You want to go with the same thing?" he asked vaguely. Gibbs stared at him for a long moment, and then his shoulders fell a little, and he nodded his head, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Jackson bent to tell Benjamin what he could call him, and Gibbs leaned over and lowered his voice.

"Kelly called him _Pops_," he informed her gruffly.

Jenny nodded to show she understood, and smiled at him.

Jackson had straightened back up, and he looked at the two of them, nodding cordially again at Jenny.

"Benjamin and Whitney," he said, and Jenny thought he said the kids' names nicely. He sighed, giving Gibbs a hard sort of look, and then shrugged, as if letting it go. "You got yourself some beautiful kids, Leroy."

Gibbs lips twitched slightly; he almost smiled. Jackson grinned cheekily.

"This wife of yours, you shoulda been writin' home about her," he drawled flirtatiously, and that sent Gibbs' mouth right back in to a suspicious scowl – and he glared at his father.

Jackson chuckled heartily, and waved his hands.

"C'mon, let's get you all settled in the house – I bet these kids are hungry, and I got some peanut butter fudge that'll spoil 'em rotten just in time for bed."

* * *

Jenny rubbed her forehead tiredly and winced as she turned off the bedroom light. Disgruntled, she crawled onto the small bed she was sharing with Gibbs – it was an old double, whereas they had a king size at home – and knelt next to him, frowning earnestly.

Gibbs looked up at her, his hand moving rhythmically as he patted Whitney soothingly on the back.

"I told you this was a bad idea," he grumbled at her half-heartedly.

Jenny gave him a look.

"It's going fine," she said. She sighed – and it was: Gibbs and his father seemed to be doing okay, Benjamin had been in this rustic wonderland all of six hours and was in love with it, and Jenny liked Jackson very much – but Whitney was suddenly inconsolable about her teething – in the middle of the night, of course – and Jenny was feeling guilty that –

"We kicked your father out of his room, and now Witty won't keep quiet," she said tersely. "He won't get any sleep – "

"Ah, Jen, we didn't kick him anywhere," Gibbs interrupted. He rolled his eyes. "You think Jackson was gonna let you and the kids squeeze into my old high school room? He'd make me sleep on a couch in a heartbeat, but he wouldn't do that to you. Too much of an old fashioned guy," he assured her. He laughed slightly. "And Witty won't wake him up; he's been able to sleep through anything since the war."

Jenny moved her lips – World War II, Jackson had been in. She relaxed slightly and leaned against the wall, pressing her legs against Gibbs' and reaching out to lightly stroke her daughter's feet.

"Don't call your father Jackson," she said quietly.

"Jen – "

"Jethro, don't," she admonished. "Not in front of Ben. I don't want him getting the wrong ideas about respect. I don't ever want him calling you Jethro."

"S'not the same," grunted Gibbs. He shifted Whitney into a cradle and gently tried to coax her to take a pacifier, but she turned her head into his chest and continued fussing half-heartedly.

Jenny licked her lips. She hesitated a moment, and then decided not to push it. There was a thick amount of history between Gibbs and his father, and she didn't think she'd understand it. It seemed like a lot of silly little things, petty things, but then she hadn't lived Jethro's life – so she didn't know what the culminating effect of him and his father on each other was.

"His peanut butter fudge is to die for," Jenny murmured tiredly, yawning.

She wouldn't get to sleep until Whitney was comforted, but she was tired from the drive and looking forward to a lazy weekend – she loved the Fourth of July holidays. Gibbs nodded.

"Mom's recipe," he said vaguely.

Jenny nodded to herself, her eyes drooping a little.

"I want you to get some of those little firecrackers with the toy soldiers in them, for Ben," she said sleepily. "He'll love chasing them."

"Got 'em," Gibbs said, one step ahead of her. "Saw some in the store," he added, when she peeked an eye at him skeptically. "Got some sparklers, too."

"No," Jenny said firmly.

"Aw, Jenny – "

"No," she reiterated sharply, glaring. "He's _five_."

Gibbs made a scoffing, annoyed noise and gave her a look. He continued to stare at her until she rubbed her forehead and sighed, irritated.

"Okay – if you hold his hand while he's holding the sparkler, and keep a water gun in the other hand," she relented.

"Flare gun," Gibbs countered.

"Jethro, that isn't funny."

He snorted good-naturedly, and shifted, bouncing Whitney a little. Jenny yawned and slid down a little, tired. She opened her eyes heavily and watched him, frowning. She started to reach out.

"I'll try feeding her," she began, and Gibbs shook his head.

"Nah, I got it," he said. "Go to sleep, Jen, you did all the driving," he muttered. He stood up, carrying Whitney easily in one arm, and grabbed a soft-as-butter baby blanket from a dresser in the corner. "It okay if this gets stained?" he asked mysteriously.

Jenny made a tired, non-committal noise, and Gibbs shrugged, taking it with him. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Jenny's mouth, and started leaving slowly, happy to leave her to get some rest.

"Check on Ben," she advised, eyes closed.

He grunted, and then opened the door.

"Jethro," she stopped him.

"Hm?"

"Don't you dare put whiskey on that baby's gums."

"'Course not," he said, too smoothly.

He left the room, leaving the door cracked so it wouldn't creak when he came back in, and not even thirty seconds later she heard him say –

"Dad, you got any whiskey?"

"'Bout time you came down here and did somethin' about that teethin' – got some sugar water heatin' up for you."

Jenny glared at the door half-heartedly, forcing her eyes open.

"Not the damn scotch, she's a _baby_ for Christ's sake – "

"It's _damn_ good whiskey – ! "

"Maker's Mark," Gibbs said, his voice fading.

Jenny burrowed under the covers and shook her head into the pillows, rolling her eyes lightly to herself – it figured that Jackson would be a proponent of that old home remedy – like father like son.

* * *

It was a rare event when Benjamin played nicely and patiently with Whitney, and Jenny was delighted to be watching such an anomaly occur while Jackson and Gibbs grilled hamburgers.

The Stillwater air was full of the small town noise of an Independence Day festival, and though people kept stopping by to grab last minute things from the general store – Jackson kept it open until three in the afternoon – or to say hello and make wise cracks at Gibbs, they were enjoying a private afternoon in the yard.

Benjamin was helping Whitney pet the baby chickens Jackson had mentioned, and she was giggling and shrieking with delight.

Jenny, with one eye on the kids, wandered over to the wooden table to grab another glass of lemonade. She knocked her sunglasses back and peered at her kids over the class.

"Is she walkin' much?" Jackson asked her good-naturedly, wiping his hands on his jeans as he came up beside her.

"Oh, a little," Jenny said, tilting her head. "She toddles. Ben usually knocks her over after her third step."

"Little tyke seems like a handful," Jackson guessed.

Jenny arched a brow.

"He's a clown," she agreed. "Lots of energy, stubborn, not so great at communication – "

"I got one like that, maybe you met him? Leroy?"

Jenny laughed, and nodded appreciatively at the joke – Ben was a lot like Gibbs in many respects, but Whitney was, too.

"It's her first Fourth?" Jackson asked.

"Her first firecrackers, her first cook-out," Jenny listed, nodding. She grinned and pointed. "Her first adorable little outfit."

"'M surprised Leroy didn't throw a fit about that," Jackson said dryly.

Whitney was happily playing with the baby chickens in a full Lady Liberty costume – complete with cute little crown and a stuffed, pillow-like book to lie on when she got bored.

Jenny turned to Jackson and raised her eyebrows.

"He put her in that," she said.

"What?" Jackson asked curtly, eyes widening.

Jenny smirked.

"_Jethro_ put her in that," she stressed. "This is the only holiday he _likes_."

Jackson laughed loudly, raising his glass to Jenny.

"I never thought I'd see it," he said good-naturedly. "Damn, he hated Shannon dressing up Kelly – even on Halloween, he'd grumble about one pumpkin outfit, or some ghost dress," Jackson remembered fondly. He shook his head, his eyes falling to Whitney again. "I sure miss that little girl."

Jenny smiled sadly. She kept forgetting that Kelly's absence must affect Jackson badly, too – she forgot he'd been her grandfather, not just Gibbs' father.

"Ben," growled Gibbs loudly, shouting across the yard. "Get that off your head."

Jenny glanced over – Ben had stolen Whitney's Lady Liberty crown and put it on himself.

"No!" shouted Ben, snorting.

"You look like a girl," Gibbs groused.

Jenny stepped back blithely and _whacked_ him in the back of the head Gibbs-style, shooting him a stern look.

"He's having fun," she snapped.

"It's a girl's headband – "

"You won't stand there in front of your daughter and tell Ben that there's something wrong with looking like a girl," Jenny informed him.

Gibbs glared at her, and Jackson laughed again, taking Jenny's arm.

"I like her, Leroy!" he complimented, and turned to Jenny before Gibbs could protest much more. "You two havin' any more kids?" he asked brazenly.

"_Dad_," growled Gibbs.

"No," Jenny said lightly, shrugging. "Two is plenty and Jethro is old."

Jackson snorted, and Gibbs rolled his eyes, eyes on the grill. He poured some beer over a couple of the beef patties and took a swig, glancing over at the kids moodily. He put his spatula down and gave his wife a pained look.

"Jen," he whined.

She looked over. Ben had taken one of Whitney's red and white sparkly hair bows out and clipped it to the front of his shirt. Jenny giggled, and shrugged – she was just going to let him be. Ben got up and walked over primly, holding a baby chick in his hand.

"Dad," he said loudly, stomping his foot. He pointed. "I'm DUCKY," he announced, lifting his chin haughtily. "See my bow tie?"

Jenny laughed.

"There, Jethro, he's being Ducky, not Liberace," she said, and into her lemonade muttered, "calm down."

"That's a chicken, son," Gibbs said seriously, pointing at the bird.

"Yeah," Ben agreed, and blinked. "Hey, is it the same kinda chicken we eat from McDonald's?"

Jenny tried to think of a calm way to handle it – she didn't want that reality to smack Ben in the face on a good day – but before she could, Gibbs just bluntly answered –

"Yeah."

She opened her mouth to snap, but –

"_Cool_," Ben said. "When this chicken is big, can we _eat_ it?"

"Benjamin!" cried Jenny in a pained voice.

He looked at her, unfazed, and shrugged, running off. Gibbs laughed at the look on her face, and Jackson shook his head.

"We're meat and potatoes kinda guys," Jackson joked.

"Better to know where you got what you're eatin'," Gibbs agreed.

Jenny pushed her hair back, declaring them both heathens, and turned to watch the kids.

"Witty, don't poke the chickies, pet the chickies," Ben insisted.

"What's that he calls her?" Jackson asked. "_Witty_?"

"Nickname," grunted Gibbs.

"He couldn't say her name, at first," Jenny explained. "Witty was easier. It stuck, in a way. It sounds smart."

"Lemme guess," Jackson said, "Leroy calls her 'Whit.'"

Jenny gave him an amused look, as if asking – how did you know?

"One syllable," Jackson snorted. "It's his signature."

Jenny held up her hand.

"Jen, Ben, Whit," she agreed.

"Shan, Kel," Jackson added.

Jenny paused – she didn't know how Gibbs would react to something like that. She had figured out quickly that Jackson's way of dealing with the tragedy was to talk about it frankly and openly, but it hadn't yet happened when Gibbs was in earshot or unable to pretend he hadn't heart. She winced, at the thought of him shutting down – or the whole thing running the evening, but after a short, tense moment –

"Never called her that," Gibbs said neutrally. "Shannon. She hated it."

Jenny relaxed a little, and pushed her hair back. The burgers sizzled on the grill, and Jackson snapped his fingers suddenly.

"Bang Snaps!" he said aloud.

Jenny arched her brows, and Gibbs smirked.

"Bang Snaps?" Jenny asked.

"Kid-safe fireworks, you just chuck 'em real hard on the concrete," Jackson said enthusiastically. "Got a whole box I didn't sell." He turned to Gibbs. "Think Ben'll like 'em?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Yeah, take 'im out front," he encouraged.

Jackson headed over to the kids, and Jenny stepped closer.

"Safe?" she asked.

"No, I sent Ben off with Dad to a fiery, patriotic death."

"_Jethro_."

"Yeah, they're safe."

Jenny handed her lemonade to him for him to finish off, and went to get Whitney, sweeping her up and away from the chickens and adjusting her cute little headband.

"Miss Li-ber-ty," she greeted loftily, making her eyes wide and friendly for the baby. "Come watch Daddy cook!" she exclaimed.

"Da," Whitney repeated. "Da Da Da Da."

"Dad's got some face tattoos in the story," Gibbs said gruffly. "If you want to put 'em on her."

"Jethro, she's dressed as Lady Liberty I think – I think we've got patriotism covered."

"They're wash off tattoos," he pushed.

"Do you think someone's going to mistake her for a Canadian or something? What's with your sudden desire to truss her up?"

Gibbs was silent for a moment, and then he glared at her seriously.

"It will look cute on her face," he said, in the manliest voice he could muster.

Jenny stared at him, dumbfounded, and then she bit her lip to keep from laughing. She reached out and patted his arm in a patronizing manner – okay, so apparently when he had a daughter to adore, Gibbs' enjoyment of the Fourth of July went up tenfold.

* * *

Jenny had been mildly worried that Whitney would be terrified of the fireworks – Ben had screamed and screamed when they went to see them in D.C. for the first time – but that concern was unfounded; Whitney _loved_ them.

She sat in her father's lap, clapping her hands every time she saw the pretty colours, and then twisting to look happily up at Gibbs, eagerly smiling as if she wanted him to make more for her. Her lips were red from the home-made apple pie they'd let her have a bit of, and she was up past her bed time – but since teething woes were forgotten and it was a holiday, it didn't matter.

Ben was darting around trying to keep an eye on all the fireworks going off – while also clutching a half-eaten ice cream sandwich _and_ trying to catch lightening bugs –and the adults were sipping holiday appropriate cocktails – well, beers for Jackson and Gibbs, lemonade and whiskey for Jenny.

Jenny watched Gibbs as he sat on a blanket with Whitney, staring up at the night with her and keeping a lazy eye on Ben. He'd introduced their son to sparklers earlier – and though Jenny had damn near thrown a fit when she caught him letting Ben hold one – and Gibbs had had Whitney in his arms while standing way too close.

"You mind if I ask you somethin'?" Jackson piped up suddenly, leaning over and lowering his voice.

Jenny turned, blinking a few times. She indicated he should go ahead, her attention pulled away.

"Seems Leroy's always got the little girl," Jackson noticed astutely. "She got an attachment thing?" he asked. He winced. "Ah, not sayin' she doesn't like you, Jenny."

Jenny laughed quietly, nodding in understanding. She bit her lip, and tilted her head.

"Whitney isn't clingy," she said, and hesitated. "Jethro is," she admitted.

It was true – she didn't think Gibbs really noticed he did it, but he was much more hands on with Whitney than he had been with Ben. He was constantly holding Whitney; he constantly had her with him, he took her on errands with him, he watched her like a hawk, he spent a lot of time accidentally sleeping in the nursery because he fell asleep in the rocking chair.

Jackson nodded thoughtfully.

"I wondered," he said vaguely.

He watched Gibbs pointing to an area of the sky for Whitney. He looked older, tired, sad for a moment, and then he leaned forward, sat his beer down on the grass, and clasped his hands in his lap.

"He's better," he stated matter-of-factly.

Jenny chose her words carefully.

"The last time you saw him was…?"

"The funeral," Jackson said bluntly. "Didn't give him what he needed, but then, nobody could've. I loved that wife of his, and that little girl."

Jenny nodded. She wasn't sure she had a place in this conversation. She licked her lips, and took a breath.

"I met Jethro years after it happened," she said delicately. "I was going to leave him, when I found out I was pregnant and he stopped me. He told me everything. He wanted Ben, Whitney," she said sincerely. "I think … now," she paused, "he's ready to let go of some of the stuff between you."

Jackson laughed.

"Jenny, it ain't that easy. We been too hard on each other for too long," he admitted, and looked downtrodden for a moment. "'M happy he's better," he said. "'M happy he's got you, and Witty."

"And Ben," Jenny said.

Sometimes she worried it seemed like Gibbs preferred Whitney, but she knew that wasn't it – Gibbs was just subconsciously more protective of Whitney, subconsciously more attached, because on some level he felt like he was making it up to Kelly.

Jackson nodded.

"Yeah, that little firecracker, too," he drawled. He took a deep breath, and nodded. "Y'know, this holiday, it reminds you that it's better to be united. Don't matter if it's friends, family, country," he reflected. "It's just better to be united."

Jenny smiled, looking over to the blanket.

"Whoa, _Dad_ – Daddy, a lighten' bug landed on Witty's _nose_!" screeched Ben, laughing as he scampered over.

The glow lit up on the little girl's face, and she blithely ignored it, reaching up with chubby hands to try and place her liberty headband on Gibbs' head – Jenny watched as, instead of replacing it back on her, Gibbs adjusted it so it fit him, and let Whitney shriek at him in amusement.

She bit her lip, and turned to Jackson.

"Happy Independence Day," she said, good-naturedly – and with an all-American salute and a lift of his beer, he toasted her .

* * *

_July, 2005_

* * *

_happy holidays, americans!_  
_no hard feelings, brits. _  
_:)_

_-alexandra_  
_story #208_


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